After Death
by Addie Logan
Summary: The battle with Wolfram and Hart has come to an end, and Angel has lost the Shanshu. With his hopes for redemption seemingly gone, how will Angel move on? AngelxCordelia
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ or _Angel_. They belong to that wacky Whedon guy and his minions.

Rating: M

Summary: The battle with Wolfram and Hart has come to an end, and Angel has lost the Shanshu. With his hopes for redemption seemingly gone, how will Angel move on? (Angel/Cordelia)

Spoilers: This takes place post-"Not Fade Away," so everything.

Author's Note: You may notice some of the scenes towards the beginning of this fic are either identical or really, really similar to scenes from my fic "Daylight." There's a reason for that. This fic is sort of a companion piece to that fic. Originally, I was going to contain all I wanted to deal with for Angel in "Daylight," but as I kept working on that one, I realized that there was a story past what could be successfully told in a fic in which Angel and Cordelia were not the central figures. So in order to set things up here, I'm going to have to repeat a few scenes from "Daylight." This both preserves the flow of the narrative here as well as it makes it not imperative for you to read that fic in order to understand this one. You can if you'd like, but this fic does serve as a stand-alone.

Also, this fic does fit in with my Post-Chosen/Not Fade Away series. To find a list of the other fics in that series, follow the link in my profile.

* * *

**After Death**

By: Addie Logan

* * *

_"I couldn't tell you I loved you  
I never dared say a thing  
So I just sang all my rhymes to the wind  
The shadow of the king.  
Now nobody knows why I'm weeping  
The curtain is drawn far too soon  
I just want to curl up in my bed at noon._

_Cordelia, Cordelia  
Cordelia, Cordelia my love..._

_And I swear on your grave, too  
Cordelia, I've always loved you."  
—"Cordelia," Brian Johnson_

_"If only the future  
Held nothing to fear.  
If only love was always kind  
And the truth was always clear.  
I only we could tell them  
Just what they wanted to hear…_

_I was Cordelia, before I died…"  
—"Cordelia," Cosy Sheridan

* * *

_

The battle was over.

And Angel was still standing.

Destruction surrounded him, the dead bodies of demons and Slayers alike scattered around him like garbage, the stench of death cloying. He couldn't shake it off if he tried.

Buffy had saved them. She'd played the hero, riding in with the cavalry. It was the role he'd always reserved for himself in her life. He was supposed to be the one who did the saving. He was supposed to be the Champion.

But he wasn't. Not here. Maybe not ever again. He knew the dead girls he was looking at now were Slayers, chosen and trained to fight. Meant to die for the cause. But it didn't make knowing they'd died in his battle any easier. In the aftermath of it all, the guilt weighed on him just as strongly as if he'd ripped out each of their necks.

He'd asked for this. He'd wanted a showdown with the Senior Partners. This had been the battle he'd been itching for since the first year he'd come to Los Angeles. And he'd won it. The forces sent here by evil had been decimated. And he was still standing.

Then why didn't it feel like a victory? If anything, it felt like a decisive loss. Something inside him was gone. The anger that had driven him the past year had died, leaving nothing to fill its void. No hope. No faith. Nothing.

He could already tell nothing had changed. He'd toppled the building that had housed the L.A. branch of Wolfram and Hart. He'd slaughtered an army of demons. But evil was still out there, he knew. Wolfram and Hart would rise again, just like it had before. And the demons littering the ground now were only a fraction of the hordes of Hell. He'd thrown everything he had into getting to this point, given up everything.

His friends.

His son.

His redemption.

The moment he signed his name to the Shanshu Prophecy played over and over in his mind. The goal he'd worked for for so long, the thing that had kept him going, even when he'd said he no longer believed was lost. He'd given it up, and for what? An alley full of dead bodies?

But it couldn't be that simple. It was a prophecy. If it was supposed to be, it would be. He'd made a mistake here. He could see that now with blinding clarity. But there could still be redemption, couldn't there? He'd done unspeakable evil in the past, and still the Powers had come back to his side. He could turn around now. He could show them that he hadn't strayed too far.

"Someone get over here! I need some help!"

Angel froze. _Buffy_… He ran towards the direction he'd heard her voice, stopping short when he saw her cradling an unconscious Spike in her arms.

"Angel. Quick, we need to do something. We need…" There were tears in her eyes, and Angel felt a quick surge of jealousy. "He just…We were arguing, and he… Help me get him to someone." Buffy's brow furrowed. "The healers will be busy with the Slayers. Angel, you have to help me get him to a hospital."

"Buffy, he's a vampire. As long as he's not dust, he doesn't need any help. Besides, we take him to a hospital, and they're just going to take him to the morgue."

Buffy looked up at him with shimmering green eyes. "No they won't, Angel. His heart is beating."

And with those words, Angel's world fell out from under him.

* * *

So what do you think? Anyone onboard with this one? Please leave a review and let me know if this is something I should continue! 


	2. Chapter Two

Angel didn't like hospitals. He hadn't spent a lot of time in them in his 253 years as a vampire, and when he did, it was never because of something good. That tended to be the nature of a hospital after all.

But this… He stared at the partially-open door of Spike's room, the faint beep of the heart monitor seeming deafening to his sensitive ears. The image of signing his name to that old piece of parchment ran through his mind again, and Angel forced it away. That couldn't be what this was. The Shanshu couldn't be Spike's. He couldn't have strayed so far that _Spike_ would be more worthy of redemption than him.

It had to be something else. Maybe Spike had made a deal with someone after he'd found out about the Shanshu, tried to assure he'd be the one with the heartbeat. But it couldn't be real. Couldn't be real redemption... Spike hadn't worked for it. Angel had had a soul for over a century. Spike had had one for two years. If redemption wasn't possible in a hundred years, then it certainly wasn't possible in two.

And Buffy… She was in there now, sitting by Spike's bed, waiting for him to wake up. It made Angel feel sick. The thought that his precious, beautiful Buffy had ever _touched_ Spike was enough, never mind have feelings for him.

He sat up straighter when he heard voices. Spike was awake.

Angel cornered Buffy as soon as she walked out of the hospital room. She gave him an annoyed look that Angel had become more than familiar with over the years and tried to push past him. "I need to talk to the nurses," she said.

"Tell me how Spike's doing first."

At the look Buffy gave him, Angel could tell she knew he was concerned about something other than Spike's well-being, but she answered anyway. "He's awake, but I think he has a fever. I need to get a doctor."

Angel frowned. Apparently nothing had changed. "A fever, huh? So he's still…"

"Alive. Yes. Now please, get out of my way."

Angel didn't move. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't real. Spike had done something, found some way to make himself appear alive. "I don't like this, Buffy. It's clearly mystical."

"Mystical? I hadn't thought of that! Thank you so much Angel for telling me that a vampire suddenly coming back to life is mystical. What would I do without you?" Buffy hissed.

"This isn't a time for Slayer sarcasm."

"No, it's time for you to get out of my way before I knock you out."

Angel hated it when she did that. Always so ready to threaten him… "Still automatically resorting to violence and threats, I see."

Buffy threw her arms up in the air. "God, you are completely unbelievable sometimes!"

A nurse approached them then, obviously worried that they'd cause more of a scene in the waiting room than they already had. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

"No," Buffy replied. "I just came out to tell someone that the patient in room 212 is awake."

The nurse flipped a page on the clipboard she was holding. "212. Summers, William. I'll go find a doctor to take a look at him."

Angel's mouth fell open as Buffy thanked the nurse. William _Summers_? Where had that come from?

As the nurse walked away, Angel grabbed Buffy's arm before she could go back into Spike's room. "You checked him in under your name?"

"Yeah. What did you expect me to tell them his full name was, William T. Bloody? Besides, they tend to leave you out of the loop if you're not a relative."

Angel tried to be rational, despite the fact that this whole situation was making that very difficult. He didn't like it, but he could see a level of practicality there. "So you told them what, you're his sister?"

"Wife, actually."

Rationality was gone then. Buffy was telling people she was Spike's _wife_? Could this get any worse? "What!" Angel exclaimed.

"Angel, lower your voice. This is a hospital, not a stadium. Pretending to be his sister after, well, everything we've, um, _shared _would just be ookie, and I wanted enough leeway to be able to stay with him, okay?" Buffy snapped.

"No, it's not okay. You told people you were married to Spike. How could you do that?"

"Oh god Angel, grow up." Buffy snatched her arm away from him and went back into Spike's room.

Angel stood, fuming. This was not happening to him. Spike wasn't really human. He couldn't be. This wasn't redemption. It was a fluke, something gone terribly, terribly wrong. And Buffy… She couldn't actually have feelings for Spike. Angel knew they'd been _together_, but this… She was still cookie dough, dammit.

Angel had had enough of this. He turned around, his coat swirling behind him as he stormed out of the hospital.

* * *

His hotel was full of Slayers. They were running around everywhere, the ones that weren't seriously wounded tending to the ones that were.

And in the middle of it all stood Illyria, head cocked as she took it in the chaos.

Angel growled low in his throat. He wanted them all gone. He wanted peace and quiet—a good atmosphere in which to brood.

"Angel!"

Angel turned, feeling a quick shot of relief as he saw Charles Gunn walking towards him. "Hey."

"I was looking for you after it all ended," Gunn said. "Couldn't find you."

"I was at the hospital with Buffy."

"Buffy got hurt? What happened?" Gunn asked.

"No, Buffy's fine. It's Spike."

Gunn frowned. "Spike's hurt? Why'd you take him to a hospital? Last I heard, they tended not to specialize in vampires."

Angel sighed. "He developed a pulse."

"What? How?"

"Yeah, I'm asking myself the same thing. Buffy said he collapsed, and when she went over there, his heart was beating. She knew the healers were busy with the Slayers, so we brought him to the hospital. He was just waking up when I left."

"So the Shanshu was about Spike then," Gunn said softly.

"No! This has got to be something else. I mean, redemption and Spike don't exactly go hand in hand."

"Did the prophecy say specifically that it was redemption related?"

"Look, I need…I need sleep or something. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Gunn patted his side. "Those healers patched me right up. Could've used one or two of them back in my days on the street."

"Good. Do something with Illyria, would you?"

"What do you expect me to do with her?"

"I don't know, give her a petri dish or something," Angel replied, walking past Gunn and towards the stairs, hoping he could find a little peace and quiet on one of the upper levels.

"Angel!" Gunn called, but the vampire didn't turn around.

* * *

Angel's room was exactly how he'd left it. When he'd moved into the Wolfram and Hart building, he'd always known there would probably be the need for a getaway someday, possibly one of the quick variety. He'd kept the Hyperion up and running, made sure the bills were always paid and the building was always accessible.

And here he was, back again. Back where he'd started when he'd signed up to be CEO of the L.A. branch of evil's personal law firm.

Only he wasn't quite where he'd started. He'd taken several giant steps back.

The phone rang, the shrill sound making Angel jump. He stared at it for a moment, wondering if he should even bother. For all he knew, it was Lilah Morgan placing a collect call from Hell to taunt him… When it rang again, he decided he might as well face whatever was on the other line. "Hello?"

"Angel, it's Buffy."

At the sound of her voice, Angel sat down on the edge of the bed. "Hey. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to ask you about something Spike was talking about."

Somehow, Angel managed to grow even paler. Anything that Spike had to say couldn't possibly be good. He could just imagine the sort of things Spike would _love_ to fill Buffy in on. "It didn't have anything to do with a werewolf did it?" he asked.

"Huh? No. It was about some prophecy. Um, Shine Shoe?"

There it was. The prophecy that seemed to be on everyone's mind these days… "Shanshu."

"Yeah, that's the one. He said you'd know about it."

So Spike did think this was because of the Shanshu. Angel wouldn't accept that. The Shanshu meant nothing. If it wasn't his, then it was nothing more than a false prophecy. The father will kill the son and all that…

Angel spoke again. "It talked about a vampire with a soul becoming human after an apocalyptic battle. But it was really unclear, and the texts have been tampered with in the past. I wouldn't put much stock in it."

"Yeah, well, there's a vampire with a soul turned human in a hospital room right now that makes me think otherwise."

"Buffy, this is Spike we're talking about here. If this Shanshu thing really did mean something, you don't think _he'd_ be worthy of it? Come on."

"Actually, Angel, I do. I watched Spike change, and I know what kind of person he's become."

Buffy's words hit him hard. That wasn't how she was supposed to think about Spike. That was how she was supposed to think about him… "Look, whatever made Spike human, it was not divine intervention, okay? It's something bad."

"How do you know that?"

"Because it has to be! Look, I have a lot to deal with right now. We'll discuss this later, when Spike's out of the hospital, and we can really sort everything out."

"Fine. Good bye, Angel."

"Bye Buffy." Angel slammed the receiver down before standing up and yanking the phone out and throwing it against the wall. Anger was coursing through him, ready to explode. He'd suffered for over one hundred years. He'd paid the price for his sins with his own blood. With the blood of the people he cared for. He'd offered penance.

And he'd gotten nothing in return.

Spike, on the other hand, had been nothing but a pain in the ass. He had never suffered half as much as Angel had. Angel was sure of that. Spike what, got a soul to impress a girl, and in a fraction of the time Angel had had a soul, Spike had gotten redemption? _And_ Buffy at his side? It wasn't possible. Angel had been punished enough without adding this to it.

Buffy had spoken with such conviction when she'd said Spike had changed. She believed Spike could be a good man… Angel roared, knocking his bedside table to the ground.

It wasn't enough. He needed to break, to destroy. He was angry. At Buffy, at Spike, at the Powers. _At himself_. He lashes out against the furniture in his room, tearing and smashing until nothing but destruction was left.

* * *

Angel sat on the floor, leaning his head against the wall. He'd lost everything His destiny, his girl—everything. And Spike had it. He hung his head in his hands.

"You know, it's kind of hard for someone to take something that wasn't yours to begin with."

That voice… Angel knew it couldn't be, that he had to have reached a point of delusion. He looked up, staring at the woman who appeared before him. "Cor…Cordelia?"

"Nice to know you remember me, what with all the drama." Cordelia looked around. "Love what you've done with the place. When your decorator was done, did he whip a little girl and her house to the Land of Oz by any chance?"

Angel continued to gape. "How are you….you're…"

"Dead? Yeah, you, too, buddy, so don't go pointing fingers. But it seems like the Powers that Be decided I needed to rejoin the world of the, well, mostly living. Something about your complete inability to function without me. I could've told them about _that_."

Angel needed to touch her, needed to know she was real. He stood, walking slowly until he was standing in front of Cordelia. He reached out and tentatively touched her face. He felt her warm skin against his hand and knew this had to be more than an illusion. Angel grabbed her, pressing her against him tightly.

"Um…not so dead I don't need to breathe," Cordelia squeaked. "Think maybe you could cut down on the vampire-strength squeezing?"

Angel pulled away, though he kept his hands still resting on her arms. If he let her go, she might disappear… "I'm sorry, I'm just…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Cordelia pulled back from him. "I just want to state right now that I am none-too-pleased with you. I was getting along quite well in the Higher Realms this time, until _someone_ had to go and completely ignore my warning."

Ignore her warning? He'd paid close attention to that vision, taken out the evil she'd shown him. "But I didn't," Angel said. "I re-found my focus. I got back on the mission."

Cordelia's expression turned sad, wistful. "No, you didn't."

Angel protested. "I did! I…"

Cordelia reached out, stroking his cheek. "I always knew these obsessions of yours would get you in trouble, Angel. They make you so blind, make it so you can't see anything around you. Sometimes you just have to let go. You have to learn what you can have, and what you can't."

She seemed…disappointed. Angel couldn't take that. After everything else that had just happened, he couldn't have Cordelia looking at him like that. She had to understand… "It wasn't supposed to be like this. Fred…Wes…they weren't supposed to die."

"But they did. Your obsession with Wolfram and Hart, it overshadowed everything. I thought…I thought you'd learn, but you didn't. You let it destroy everything."

He had. He hadn't meant to, but he had. He couldn't argue that, not to Cordelia. She knew him too well, and had always been the first people to call him out when he tried to deny what they knew was the truth. "Can I…can I fix it?"

"Maybe. I don't know. But you're going to have to let go, Angel. You're going to have to learn to do that."

Did that mean there was a chance for him? Could he come back from this, find the path to redemption again? If Cordelia was here now… "I can. You'll…you'll help me, won't you?"

Cordelia smiled, taking his hand. "Of course I will. It's why I'm here now."

Angel let go of her hand and sunk back down to the floor. Cordelia sat beside him, her arm wrapped around his shoulder. Angel just let them sit in silence for a long while, enjoying the feel of her there with him again. He'd missed her, more than he could ever tell her. So much had happened since she'd left. He'd made so many mistakes, made decisions Cordelia never would've accepted. "I killed them," he told her. "I killed Wes and Fred."

"They made the choice to join Wolfram and Hart, too. They knew the dangers."

Angel shook his head. "They were following me. They trusted me, and I let them down." He turned to Cordelia then, resting his head against her shoulder. Something about being with her again was pushing the anger out, replacing it with overwhelming loss. He'd killed two of his closest friends… Angel began to cry, the loss and the pain that had been building up inside him forcing its way out.

Cordelia held him, stroking his hair silently until he fell asleep.

* * *

People still with me on this one? Please review! 


	3. Chapter Three

Angel's day had started badly when he'd woken up alone. No trace of Cordelia, not even her scent. It had seemed so real the night before, but now Angel was seeing that it had all been a delusion. A very vivid one, but a delusion nonetheless.

From there, he'd had a conversation with Willow, who had informed him that Buffy and Spike were out having breakfast. Apparently, it was a very long meal, since that had been hours ago, and he hadn't heard from either one of them.

He'd spent the entire day stuck in the hotel, sitting amongst the wreckage his fit the night before had caused. He couldn't stand the thought that Spike was out there somewhere with Buffy, most likely in daylight.

Finally, Angel had had enough. Sunset wasn't for a few hours yet, but he didn't care. He didn't trust what had happened to Spike, nor did he like the idea of him being alone with Buffy. Nothing good could come from that, Angel was certain. He started towards the door.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

Angel froze. She was back…He turned sharply, staring at the woman now standing in his room. "Cordelia?"

"The one and only. And again I ask, where are you going?"

He gave her the truth. "Spike and Buffy have been gone all day. I have to find them."

Cordelia placed her fists firmly on her hips, one eyebrow raised. "Um, in case you haven't noticed, it's a little bright out there. Unless your method of finding them involves being a flaming pillar of dust, I suggest you stay in."

"I can go through the sewers," Angel insisted.

"So you're what, going to wander around the L.A. sewer system trying to catch a glimpse of them somewhere?" She took her hands from her hips, gesturing as she spoke. "Buffy doesn't need you to be her protector, especially not now."

"But Spike is probably out there putting the moves on her again," Angel pointed out. "He isn't right for her!"

The stern posture was back. "Not your decision to make."

"He mystically transformed from vampire to human in the middle of a battle with Wolfram and Hart. That can't be a good thing."

"Wasn't it at the _end_ of the battle—an _apocalyptic_ battle?"

"It wasn't the Shanshu, Cordy," Angel said, gritting his teeth.

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"Because it's Spike!" Couldn't Cordelia of all people see that? She knew what Spike was, knew he couldn't possibly be capable of redemption.

Cordelia sighed, crossing her arms in front of her. "Vampire with a soul, fought in the apocalypse, stop me when I get to something that sounds Shanshu-related here."

"But I'm the one who worked for it! I spent years earning the right to that prophecy.—and years before that suffering because of what I'd done as Angelus. Spike's had a soul for what, five minutes, and he's Shanshu worthy? Not possible."

"Have you completely forgotten you signed it away?" Cordelia asked, her eyebrow arching again. "Which, might I add, was just a stupid thing to do."

"It was my destiny!" Angel shouted. "That shouldn't have mattered! You can't change a prophecy!"

Cordelia softened, her arms dropping to her sides. "It didn't change, Angel. The prophecy was fulfilled the way it was always meant to be fulfilled."

Angel stared at her, not believing what he was hearing. "What?"

Cordelia took his hand. "We all have our destinies, Angel. This was Spike's. Yours lays elsewhere."

"I can't accept that! I'm the vampire with a soul!"

"And now you're back to being the only one. The prophecy was fulfilled, and the universe has balance again."

"It should've been me."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But that isn't the issue anymore—or the reason I'm here. The Powers made their decision, and it's in the past now. Spike is human, and that can't be changed. It's the future I'm worried about. You've lost the mission, Angel. You lost it the moment you signed that devil's deal with Wolfram and Hart."

"I did that to save Connor. You of all people should understand that."

Cordelia dropped his hand. "But is that even what you did—and is that the only reason why you did it? You were lost. Everything you'd believed in had been turned on its head. Wolfram and Hart swooped down at just the right time, got you when you were weak. They offered you more than just a new life for Connor. Don't lie to me and say that's all it was. I know better than that, and so do you."

"I wanted to bring down Wolfram and Hart—and I did." He had to hold on to that. It had all fallen apart, but he couldn't let himself believe that no good at all had come from what he'd done, from what he'd sacrificed.

"Do you really believe that?"

"I stopped the Circle of the Black Thorn."

"Evil doesn't just disappear, Angel. It goes somewhere else, finds someone new. The Senior Partners are still there. They always will be. There has to be a balance."

"Evil has to be stoppable, Cordy. If it's not, then why do I even fight?"

"You fight because it's the right thing to do."

"That's not enough!"

Cordelia placed her hand gently against his cheek. "You still have a long way to go. You focus so much on redeeming yourself, on atoning for the sins of Angelus. But the past is in the past. You can't change what you did, and you can't make any of it better. You have to focus on what's happening now and what will happen in the future. Trying to change yesterday is pointless, Angel. But working towards tomorrow—that you can do. You don't do good to make up for the bad—you do it because it's _right_."

"Cordelia, I…"

Cordelia moved her hand down, pressing her fingers against his lips. "No. I can't stay much longer, and I need you to listen to me. You're getting obsessed again, and we both know where your obsessions lead. You let yourself get so wrapped up in things that you don't see the world around you anymore. You can't do that again. Just accept what is. She's going to be happy, Angel. Just let that be enough for you."

It couldn't be enough. He'd put so much into this… "But I worked so hard…"

"And you still have work to do. I'm sorry, but that's the way things are." Cordelia stepped back from him. "I have to go now. Please, remember what I said."

Angel realized she was leaving again, and felt himself almost panic. He needed her here, now more than ever. "Why do you have to leave? Why weren't you here this morning?" Angel reached out for her, but stopped before he actually managed to touch her. "If you're here now, why can't you stay?"

"I just can't yet. I'm sorry. I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else, but now isn't the time. It was hard enough for me to get here this morning, but I knew you needed me. So don't make this all a waste of my time. Be the Champion I know you are." When she finished speaking, Cordelia faded from view.

Angel touched the spot where she'd been but felt nothing. He wondered if maybe he'd lost his mind, if he'd been pushed to the point of hallucination. Cordelia was just as gone as she'd been that morning, not even a trace of her scent remaining.

He sat back down on the ground.

* * *

"Angel? You in here, man?"

Angel heard the knock on the door, followed by Gunn's voice. But he didn't answer. He just kept staring, willing Cordelia to appear again. If he'd hallucinated her twice, couldn't he do it again?

The door slid open, Gunn walking into the room only to stop short when he saw the wreckage. "Whoa. There wasn't a poltergeist up here, was there?"

Angel continued to face forward. "Cordelia was here."

Gunn frowned. Angel was sitting in wreckage claiming he saw Cordelia? "And she…trashed your room?"

"I did that. Buffy called."

"Oh. And Cordelia… She's gone, Angel. We buried her, remember?"

Angel pointed forward. "She was right there." His hand fell. "I might have made her up." He turned to Gunn then. "I think I'm going crazy."

"And I think I'm going to have to back you up on that." Gunn held up a mug. "I brought you some blood. You haven't been down all day. Thought maybe you could use something to eat. And I think I was right, seeing as you're looking mighty scary."

"I'm not hungry."

"When's the last time you ate?"

"I don't remember."

Gunn sighed, coming over and sitting beside Angel. He handed him the mug. "Here. Drink. Might make you stop seeing things."

"I don't want to stop seeing her."

"I know."

Angel took the mug, staring down at the think, red fluid inside. "I guess Spike doesn't need this anymore. Not for a meal, anyway."

"Probably not," Gunn replied. "You know for sure what happened to him was what the Shanshu was about?"

"No. I…it can't be. Spike doesn't deserve redemption."

"I don't know, Angel. I saw him this past year. He was all about wearing that white hat. For the most part anyway…"

"I've worked harder for it. Longer."

"I don't think the Powers are happy with any of us." Gunn chuckled mirthlessly. "I used to kill vampires. Dedicated to ridding the world of 'em, one bumpy forehead at a time. Now I'm bringing one his blood."

"I'm not like other vampires, Charles."

"No, you're not." Gunn sighed. "But I'm not sure that's good enough for me anymore."

Angel turned to look at him. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying maybe your mission is no longer my mission."

"Gunn… You're all I have left."

"Yeah, I know. Last one standing. But Angel, I almost died out there. Would have, if some of your ex's witch buddies hadn't worked some mojo on my gaping mortal wound." Gunn took a deep breath. "I'm not turning on you. And I'm not saying you're my enemy. I'm just saying… I think I need to do some soul searching. This last year, it shook me up real bad. Real bad. I'm not sure who I am anymore. I need to figure that out."

Angel looked back down into the blood. "I get that. Any idea where you're going to go?"

"No. I figure I'll know when I get there. I just…I wanted to say goodbye."

"Yeah. Take care and all that."

Gunn stood. "I'm sorry, Angel."

"Me, too."

"Oh, and just so you know, the Slayers are taking Illyria. They think maybe they can turn her into a useful member of society or something."

"Oh."

Gunn turned around and walked out, shutting the door behind him. Angel drank the blood.

* * *

Angel didn't know how long it had been since he'd moved. Hours, days, it didn't matter. He wondered if he sat long enough, if he'd just dust. Dissolve into the nothing he felt.

Then he smelled her. _Buffy…_ With all the bodies that had been in his hotel, he could still smell hers. Angel stood, drawn to her. If she was here, he had to know why.

He found her talking to Willow and called to her. She stood when she saw him, smoothing her clothes with her hands. "Angel."

Willow said something quickly to Buffy before darting off, leaving them alone in the lobby. "Hello, Angel," Buffy said, he tone devoid of emotion.

"Hello, Buffy." Angel stopped in front of her, his arms crossed. She was making no effort to hide the fact she didn't really want to talk to him. He wasn't going to concede to that.

"I was just here to see how the Slayers are holding up. Willow says they're fine, so I'm going to go…" Buffy said before started to walk away.

Angel grabbed her arm, stopping her. "We need to talk."

"About what?" Buffy asked.

"You know what."

"The weather?"

Angel's jaw clinched. He didn't have the energy for her to be in this particular mood. "Don't try to be flippant about this, Buffy. We need to talk about Spike."

Buffy sighed, pulling herself out of Angel's grasp. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Spike's human."

"Gee, Angel, thanks for the newsflash. I hadn't picked up on that."

"I wasn't finished. Spike's human, and that's a bad thing."

"How? How is it bad? The Powers that Be made him human, Angel—I think they knew what they were doing."

How could she actually believe that? Angel knew Spike had tried to kill Buffy time and time again—had made it his unlife's goal at one point. And now she was just going to accept that he'd been handed redemption on a silver platter? How come no one could see the truth about Spike as clearly as he could? "It wasn't them! Dammit, Buffy, you're acting like a child."

Buffy gaped at him. "_Me_? I'm acting like a child? What about you? You're sulking like a five year old who had his favorite toy taken away!"

Angel stiffened at her accusation. "I am not! You're being incredibly naïve about this. Have you learned nothing in your time as the Slayer? Between Spike and the Immortal, I'm seriously beginning to question your judgment, Buffy."

"Oh my god. I can't believe you're being such an ass because you're _jealous_. No, wait, I can. This isn't about you. It's not about us. It's about Spike."

Jealousy? She was writing off his valid concerns about her as _jealousy_? "That much we agree on—just not what it means. You may think you know Spike, but I've seen sides of him you've never seen. The Powers that Be never would've given him this. There's something sinister behind it. And if he's willing to just sit back and let himself be human now, well, shows how much he really cares about you."

"What in the world are you talking about? What do you expect him to do, go find Drusilla to re-sire him? The Powers did this, Angel, end of story. It seems to me like what you really care about is that he's the one who was made human and not you."

Angel gritted his teeth as he made his decision of what to say next. It wasn't something he'd ever planned on sharing with Buffy, but he had to say something to make her see reason. She had to know that there were things other than the Powers that Be that could've done this to Spike. "I was human once, Buffy."

"Well, duh. I didn't think you were born a vampire."

"No. I mean a few years ago. My blood mixed with the blood of a demon with regenerative powers and I was human," Angel explained.

Buffy took a step back from him. "When? Why didn't I know about this?"

"You did."

"I did not! I think I would remember it if you were human, Angel."

Angel shook his head. "You don't remember it because I made sure you didn't. As a human, I was weak, and I couldn't protect you. I went to these oracles, asked them if me being human could hurt you. They told me you were going to die, and if I was a vampire, I might be able to protect you. So I had the day erased. We were together for that day, and it was the best day of my existence, but I loved you enough to realize that protecting you was more important than anything else."

Buffy walked backwards, sitting back down on the couch. "How…could you have done that?" she asked.

"I had to! They told me you would die." Much to Angel's surprise, Buffy began to laugh, although the sound of it bordered on hysterical. He frowned. "What?"

"I _did_ die, you bastard. I faced a hellgod who wanted to bleed my sister dry, and had to throw myself off a fucking tower. You didn't protect me, Angel. You sat back and ignored everything while I died."

Her accusation had Angel floored. That wasn't what he'd meant at all. He'd been protecting her. Couldn't she see that? And he hadn't been abandoning her. Not really. Things had just gotten so complicated, and the state of the Hellmouth hadn't seemed as pressing as it once had. "Hey, I had things going on here that…"

"Were easier if you were still the vampire with the soul. The great Champion of the people. If you gave up your humanity, it wasn't about me, so don't pretend like it was."

"You don't get what I'm telling you, Buffy."

Buffy stood again, and the look in her eyes was enough to almost scare Angel. "Then explain it to me. Since you apparently know what I need so much more than I do. You just tell me right now what I'm supposed to think."

"Buffy…"

"No! Don't you talk to me like I'm a fucking child! You don't get to do that, Angel. Not anymore." Buffy was crying now, and Angel could almost smell the anger in her tears. "You tell me what the _fucking_ point is to all of this!"

Angel was shocked. He'd never heard Buffy talk like this before… "Spike accepting this the way he is is dangerous! Vampires don't just become human. There has to be consequences—bad ones. I realized that, and I gave up everything to make things right again. The fact that he isn't willing to even consider any of this shows that he has to have some kind of ulterior motive."

"Can you hear yourself? Do you realize how convoluted that logic is? Or the lack of logic anyway."

"It's the truth, whether you want to face it or not."

Buffy balled her fists beside her, her whole body shaking. Angel couldn't tell if she was going to yell at him some more or hit him.

He never found out. He looked up, stumbling back in shock as he saw his son come through the front doors. "Connor—what are you doing here?"

Connor said nothing. Instead he responded by punching Angel as hard as he could, sending the vampire flying backwards, landing on the floor in a heap.

* * *

Please review! I only got a couple of reviews for this story, so I'm thinking no one cares about it… 


	4. Chapter Four

Angel lay on the floor of the Hyperion lobby, dazed. He hadn't expected Connor to come there, and he certainly hadn't expected Connor to punch him. And hard at that. The kid was strong. Even as Angel winced in pain as he pulled himself up off the ground, he had a bit of fatherly pride over that. "What was that for?" Angel asked his son, wiping blood off his mouth.

"You sold me out!" Connor yelled.

Angel frowned. "What?"

"Those 'people' you so happily signed me over to—the ones you let fuck with my mind—they were Wolfram and Hart lackeys. They weren't my parents. They didn't even _think_ they were my parents. It was all arranged so that they could get to you, and you let them! You sold me to _evil_ without a single care to whether or not I was okay!"

No… That couldn't be right. Angel had done what he'd had to do to _save_ Connor. He'd protected his son. "That's not true! I checked on you, made sure you were with a family."

"Did you make sure it wasn't an evil family? They're Wolfram and Hart, for Christ's sake! Did it not even enter your mind that maybe they were screwing you over?"

"It's not like I had much of a choice!" Angel yelled. "In case you've forgotten, you about to go all suicide bomber on me!"

"I woke up this morning to my mother trying to kill me! I had to fight back! I had to…" Connor fell to his knees, sobbing.

Angel stared down at the boy in horror as he realized what Connor was saying. He'd had to kill a woman he'd thought of as his mother. He saw Buffy leave out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't care. This was more important. He knelt beside Connor, wrapping his arms around him. "Connor…"

Connor pushed Angel away. "Don't you touch me!" he yelled. "You did this to me! You hurt me again! That's all you ever do. All you've ever given me is pain!"

"I…" Angel stopped. He didn't know what to say. Nothing would make this any better.

"I hate you!" Connor screamed. "I want you to die!" He lunged at Angel then, tackling him to the ground. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a stake, and Angel's eyes widened.

"Connor…no. You don't want to do this."

"I do. This has to end. _You _have to end."

Connor raised the stake, ready to plunge. Suddenly, he was floating in the air, up above Angel's head. Angel's brow furrowed. "What the…" He stood, looking over to see Willow. "You doing that?"

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"My son?"

"Your son? Vampire?"

"Not really. It's a…long story."

"Looks like he was trying to live out an Oedipal complex over there."

Angel smirked. "You don't know the half of it."

"I can't hold him all night," Willow said. "What do you want to do with him?"

"Got any sedatives?"

"Yes." Willow closed her eyes.

"What are you doing?" Angel asked with a frown.

"Asking my girlfriend to bring something to knock him out with from the impromptu hospital we set up. I would just knock him out with magic, but that tends to be unpredictable."

"Yeah, I'd rather you didn't do that."

A brunette Angel didn't recognize came out then, handing Willow a syringe. "Thanks, Kennedy," Willow replied before walking over to Connor and sticking the needle in his arm. He slumped, and she floated him over to Angel. "He's all yours. Should sleep for a while. Gave him enough to knock out…well, something big."

"Thanks. I think."

Willow gave Angel a nod and walked off with Kennedy. Angel carried Connor upstairs, depositing him in one of the bedrooms. He hoped Willow was right, and that Connor would stay down for the night. He couldn't deal with this right now.

Angel took a long look at his sleeping son before leaving him alone.

* * *

Angel needed rest. He'd pushed himself for days, and he knew he was falling apart. He found a clean room to sleep in that night, something not filled with debris. He was beginning to think that tearing his room to shreds had probably not been the most productive way to deal with his anger. It hadn't left him with much. The room he was in now was similar to his own, but different enough to set things off a bit. He lay on the bed, staring into nothing as his thoughts swarmed through his head.

He couldn't even bring himself to really think about Connor. He had messed that up more than he'd even dreamed possible, and all he could do was hate himself for not reading the fine print, for trusting Wolfram and Hart. He should've known that they'd do something to trick him.

But the thought that really made him sick now was the knowledge that, at the time, he hadn't really cared. He'd seen an opportunity, and he'd taken it. He'd believed himself to be helping his son along with the bargain, but that hadn't been all for him. He'd wanted to bring down Wolfram and Hart, and they'd offered him his in. He'd taken it without any real thought to the consequences.

Not so bright in retrospect.

He couldn't deal with it. Nothing had gone right, and he couldn't even wrap his head around how much worse he'd made things. Sure, he'd brought down the building, but, well, they'd certainly recovered nicely from that zombie incident… And this was only the Los Angeles branch. Wolfram and Hart was everywhere, in this dimension and in others. He'd done nothing but hurt those closest to him.

And Buffy… How much had he messed _that_ up? He winced as he replayed their conversation in his mind. God, what could she be thinking right now? He hadn't said anything the way he'd meant to, and he'd just made it all sound worse than it really was. Or had he? A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that Buffy wouldn't exactly have appreciated his "I have to not be human so you won't die protecting me" excuse either. And now, looking back on it, it seemed weak even to him. He was the one who'd gotten hurt that day by trying to protect Buffy. And when he really thought about it, he knew she'd put him behind her duty if need be. She had sent him to Hell…

He wasn't sure he could handle thinking about her either. He was second guessing himself more than he ever had in the past, and he knew it came from a feeling of being lost. When he'd seen Connor today, sobbing for the loss of what he'd been given and then had had so cruelly ripped away, Angel had felt everything crumble. His son was broken and it was his fault.

He'd destroyed everything around him, hurt everyone.

He squeezed his eyes tight, wanting the thoughts, the memories, the fears to go away. But they were screaming inside his head, forcing him to take a long hard look at parts of himself he'd wanted to keep forever buried.

He opened his eyes again when he felt a hand run across his cheek. When he saw who was looking down at him, he smiled.

Cordelia… She was here again. He'd come to the conclusion after the last time that he'd finally lost his sanity and was hallucinating, but he didn't care. When he saw her, she felt so real, and it was good enough for him. Even if it was only an illusion, he had her back for a little while at least.

"Rough day, champ?"

"Cordy…" Angel said softly, reaching his hand out to her.

Cordelia lay down on the bed beside him, resting against his chest. "I'm here with you for now, Angel. We don't have to talk about it, and you don't have to worry. I know things seem impossible right now, but it's going to be okay."

"Do you promise?" Angel asked, his voice small and belying his fear. He'd never felt quite this broken before, even when he'd lived in alleys feeding off of rats. He'd lost it all…

"Yes. I won't lie to you, Angel. You have a lot of hard things you're going to have to face, a lot of mistakes you're going to have to own up to. But they don't matter right now. You need to rest, and I'm here to make sure you can get that."

"Will you still be here when I wake up?"

"I don't know. I want to be, but I'm not sure I can."

Angel didn't ask why. "Can you try to be?"

"Yeah, I will. But sleep now. Things will be clearer if you rest."

Angel nodded, his eyes sliding shut. He did feel better, just having her here. Her presence this time was soothing. He wrapped his arms around her, drifting off to sleep with Cordelia there to hold.

* * *

This day had not been going any better for Angel than the last few had. He'd woken up alone again. He had to be really losing it. He wondered if that would be so bad. Drusilla had always seemed happy enough, in her own little psychotic way.

Still, he wanted it to be real. If only something of her would stay behind. If he could wake up and still smell her scent…

Then he'd made the mistake of going downstairs, only to be chewed out by Willow. Apparently even she thought Spike was more of a Champion than him, too. Maybe it had something to do with the murder of her goldfish…

He'd come upstairs then, stopping in front of Connor's door. Angel knew he was still in there, even if he hadn't left all day. But Connor also hadn't tried to kill him again, so he was hoping maybe he'd calmed down some. Angel knocked on the door. When he got no response, he tried again, this time calling out.

"Connor, it's your da…it's Angel. I just want to talk to you."

Connor still didn't reply. Angel reached down, turning the handle and finding the door unlocked, then going into the room. Connor was sitting on the bed, his knees pulled up as he stared at the wall, making no move to acknowledge the new presence in the room. Angel didn't know what to say or what to do. It hadn't been that long ago since he'd been given an infant, a life, to care for, and looking at the young man in front of him now, he knew how badly he'd messed that up.

"Are you hungry?" Angel asked. "I know you haven't really wanted to leave the room, so I could bring you something up if you wanted."

No answer.

"Okay, not hungry… Are you too cold in here? Or too hot maybe? Do you need anything at all?"

Connor turned then, his eyes an icy blue that reminded Angel a bit too much of Darla. "I don't need anything from you. Stop trying to be my father."

Angel blinked. "Connor, I…I _am_."

"No, you're not. And you made sure of that, didn't you? Got rid of me as fast as you could, made it so I was someone else's son."

"No! Connor, it wasn't like that! I didn't _want_ to give you up. You're my son, and I love you."

Connor jumped up, facing Angel as he began to yell. "What do you know about love? You don't even care about me! You couldn't wait to get me out of your life! And hey, the fact that doing that came with money, power, and a bunch of shiny new toys—just a bonus."

"That isn't true! You're more important to me than anything in this world. You're my _son_, my own flesh and blood."

"I don't care! I don't want anything to do with you. All you've ever done is fuck up my life, and I hate you!"

Angel bristled. "Connor, please… I'm sorry that things happened this way. I tried to do what was best for you, it just…it never went the way I wanted it to." A list of things that Angel had planned when he'd held Connor as a baby flashed through his mind, and he grimaced at the thought of how so many of those dreams he'd had would never come true for his son. "Just…just let us try to move on from here."

"No!" Connor yelled again. "I can't stand here and listen to you act like it could ever be better, because it _can't_. You've ruined my life, just like you ruin everything."

"I know I messed up with you. But it wasn't because I don't love you, or because I don't want you in my life. You mother told me once that you were the one good thing that we ever did together, and it's true. Connor, you're the best thing I've ever done, period. Even if things didn't go the way I'd like them to, I look at you, and you still make me prouder than anything else ever could."

"Stop it!" Connor was fighting against tears now. Angel wanted to reach out and comfort his son, but he knew it wouldn't be accepted. "I…I have to leave," Connor said, going for the door.

"No. Don't, please," Angel said, reaching out and grabbing Connor's arm as he tried to make it past him.

Connor pulled away, making Angel stumble backwards. "Don't touch me," he snarled before running out of the room.

Angel went into the hallway, prepared to go after his son when he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Let him go. He can handle himself."

Angel turned slowly. "Cordelia."

"In the flesh."

This wasn't time for another hallucination, no matter how real they felt. He needed to go after his son, not talk to an imaginary Cordelia who would disappear without a trace as soon as he closed his eyes. "I have to go after him, Cordy."

"No, you don't. Connor needs time right now. Give it to him."

Angel's shoulders slumped. He couldn't fight any of this. It was all too much. "I don't know what to do. I don't think I've ever felt this lost."

Cordelia wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her. "I know it's hard now, but you're strong, Angel. We'll get through this."

Angel stepped back, although he kept his arms loosely around her waist. She felt so real. She _smelled_ so real… "We?"

"Yes. We."

"Does…does that mean you can stay this time?"

"I can stay—for as long as you need me."

"I'm always going to need you, Cordy. Without you I…I fall apart."

"I know. But it's going to be better now. We can be happy."

The look in her eyes made Angel pull away. "No. I can't…I can't be that happy."

Cordelia cupped his cheek. "Yes, you can. It's okay. The Powers want to release you from your curse."

"What? I…"

"Shh…" Cordelia placed a finger to his lips to silence him before replacing it with her lips. Angel hesitated for only a moment before he pulled her to him with a growl. When they finally broke apart, Cordelia was panting, gasping for air. Angel's vampiric ridges were present now, and she reached up to stroke them. "It's going to be all right, Angel," she said softly. "You can let go now."

Angel lifted Cordelia off her feet. He didn't care what the consequences were. He didn't care if this wasn't really Cordelia. It felt like her now, and that's all he wanted. He could wake up tomorrow without his soul and he really wouldn't give a damn. If anything, he'd welcome it. A release from all this pain.

He carried her into the bedroom where he'd slept the night before, depositing her on the bed. She looked so beautiful, just like she had when they'd first come to Los Angeles. That's how he always remembered her. She'd been so young and bright then, the hard life they lived not yet taking its toll.

Not that Cordelia had ever been anything but beautiful. But then, she was even more extraordinary than usual. And her hair… He'd loved that hair the best. Long and dark with waves he wanted to get lost in.

That was the Cordelia stretched out in front of him now, waiting for him to make love to her. Angel took off his shoes and shirt before joining her, pressing his body over hers. He let his demon face recede before kissing her deeply. "I've missed you, Cordy," he said when he broke away, letting her breathe. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you, too," Cordelia replied, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "But I'm here now. I'll never leave you again. I'm yours until you're dust."

"Is that going to be soon then?"

Cordelia shook her head. "No. I made sure of that. Just don't worry right now, baby. I'm here."

Angel moaned, giving in...

* * *

This chapter has been edited for content.

Please, please review. I can tell from the hits that a lot more people are reading this than are actually taking the time to review. I spend a lot of time when I could be doing other things writing fanfiction simply to entertain other people, and really, asking people to leave one little review isn't that much…


	5. Chapter Five

He woke with Cordelia stretched out on top of him. Her blood had dried over night, but he could still smell it. Rich and thick. It had been the most amazing blood he'd ever tasted. He didn't think it had been human. It had been better.

It was early for him to be awake, and his body still ached for sleep. Something had pulled him out of his slumber.

He stilled, hearing it again. Voices. The Slayers had already cleared out of his hotel. The only person in there with him should've been Cordelia. He rolled her off of him, finding his clothes and dressing quickly.

As he approached the stairs, he knew who it was, their scents recognizable now that he wasn't surrounded by Cordelia's. The thought of them being here, in his home, made him angry. They shouldn't be here, especially sneaking around the way their hushed tones indicated they were.

He bounded down the stairs, going to meet the intruders. "Buffy, William! So good of you to drop by."

Buffy and Spike turned towards the stairs as they heard his voice. "Um, hi Angel," Buffy said.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs. "So what brings such a lovely couple to my hotel on this very sunny afternoon?"

"We wanted to talk to you about the Shanshu Prophecy." Buffy replied bluntly

_That damn__ prophecy…_ He should've known. "Oh, that. Why are you asking me?" he asked, gesturing towards Spike. "He's the lucky recipient, after all."

"Because we don't know anything about it," Buffy said with a sigh. "You've read it. I thought maybe you could help us figure some things out."

"Yeah, I've read it, but it doesn't look like it did a lot of good. Who knows, maybe there was just more than Mountain Dew in that cup after all."

Buffy's brow wrinkled. "Mountain Dew?"

"Tell you later," Spike said.

The vampire took a couple of steps closer. "What, you didn't tell Buffy yet? Thought for sure you'd give her a blow by blow, tell her all about how you proved yourself the better man." He sneered. "How was it you described your time with Buffy that day? Oh yeah, 'stickin' it to her' was the phrase, I believe."

"Oh, sure, take that out of context, why don't you," Spike snapped. "You know…"

"Look, Angel, I am _so_ not in the mood for this. So how about you act like a grown-up here?"

Buffy had placed her hand on Spike's arm as she spoke, and it wasn't something her former lover missed. Neither one of them seemed to flinch at all at the gesture, rubbing it in his face how comfortable they were with touching each other. "You want my help, Buffy? Fine. I'll give you some advice. Stay away from Spike. That should help you out a lot."

"Dammit, Angel, what is _wrong_ with you? Look, I know you're upset that the prophecy wasn't about you, but…"

"Upset?" He started walking again, slowly moving towards them. "'Upset,' she says. I have everything I've worked for, my _redemption_, stolen from me by this pathetic excuse for a man here, and she says I'm 'upset.' Let me tell you something, _Buffy_. I'm a little more than upset."

Spike moved himself between Angel and Buffy. "Look, your problem is with me, not Buffy. Leave her alone. You've hurt her enough for one lifetime."

"Aw, what do we have here? William the Bloody trying to be all manly and stand up for a girl that's never going to be his. This just gets pathetic after a while, you know that, Billy?"

"I'm pathetic? You're the jealous wanker who's swaggering around here making an ass of yourself."

"Yeah? Then maybe we should cut the chit-chat." He punched Spike, sending him staggering backwards and to the ground.

"Angel! What the _hell_ is wrong with you?" Buffy exclaimed. She turned towards Spike, and gasped.

That's when he realized the mistake he'd made. Spike's eyes flashed feral yellow as he charged his grandsire. He'd just picked a fight with a Spike who was not quite as human as he'd thought...

Not that it really mattered now that he was struggling to hold his own in the brawl.

He heard Buffy yell for them to stop, but he didn't. He was too angry, and he wanted Spike to suffer. Wanted him to hurt for what he'd taken from him.

Suddenly, a bright white light surrounded both the men, and they floated away from each other. They looked puzzled for a moment before trying to start up again, only to discover they couldn't move.

"You know, Angel," Cordelia said as she walked down the stairs and towards the vampire, "I was upset enough when I woke up alone a few minutes ago, but then to come down here and find you fighting with Spike… Did you not listen to _anything_ I've said to you these past couple of days? Because honestly, if there's one thing I hate, it's being ignored."

Angel had the decency to look sheepish. "Uh, hi, Cordy. You think maybe you could…"

"Let you go? Nuhuh. Not until I'm finished talking, buster. See, I've said this over and over, but you don't seem to listen, so I'm going to try one more time. Maybe if you're a captive audience, it'll sink in to that thick skull of yours. The Shanshu Prophecy was not yours. It was meant for a _Champion_—not the CEO of Evil, Inc. You didn't prove yourself worthy—Spike did. Spike was instrumental in adverting four potentially major apocalypses, and two of those were before he had a soul. He risked himself out of selflessness time and time again, and that was almost always because of love. He continually put those he loved first, allowing himself to be driven by his heart, even when it didn't beat. That's what a Champion is, Angel. It's someone who loves with every bit of who they are, who puts love above all else. Love, _real love_, is the essence of selflessness, of sacrifice. You've had chance after chance to love like that, and you've run from it every time. Spike never has, even when it threatened to tear him apart."

Angel stared at Cordelia, not knowing what to say. He knew he had no rational way of arguing against that, not with her. She knew him too well. And truth be told, he was tired of trying. The past couple days had been some of the hardest he'd ever had to face, and they'd taken their toll. He'd lost everything. Where was the use in doing anything but giving in? "But Cordy, what…what do I do now?" he asked softly.

"You're getting one more chance. That's why I'm here. Took an awful lot to convince the PTB you were worth keeping around after that stunt with the Circle of the Black Thorn, let me tell you. But we made a deal. You get to stick around—with a newly-anchored soul—in exchange for being the Champion I told them you could be. Means you're going to have to work a bit more there, buddy. No more going to bat for Team Evil."

"What about you?" Angel asked.

"I'm here to stay. Someone has to make sure you keep on your path after all. But all this Buffy jealousy crap has to stop, or I am so out that door."

With that, Cordelia released the hold she had on Spike and Angel, and Angel immediately pulled Cordelia into his arms. "I love you, Cordy," he whispered against her ear.

Cordelia held him tightly. "I know, Angel," she said after a moment. "I love you, too." She pulled away, smiling softly at him. "We'll talk more in a bit, but I have some important things to tell Spike and Buffy, okay? Can you go upstairs and wait for me?"

Angel glanced behind him, seeing Buffy and Spike out in the gardens. The sunlight was shining on them both, and he felt defeated. It was sinking in. He'd lost. Spike had won. "Yeah, I'll go up."

Cordelia kissed his cheek. "I'll join you shortly, okay?"

Angel nodded and went up the stairs.

* * *

Cordelia came into the bedroom with a bowl and a rag. "What's that for?" Angel asked.

"You've got blood on your face. I'm cleaning it off," Cordy replied as she knelt down in front of him. She dipped the rag in the bowl, wetting it with warm water before cleaning Angel's cuts. "That was a pretty stupid thing to do, you know," she said after a moment.

"I didn't know he still had all that strength. And by the way, why is he still strong?"

"Whether you knew or not, it was still stupid. And as for the strength, the Powers thought it would be for the best. Spike wouldn't like having to sit on the sidelines. It's better for Buffy, too. She needs someone who can keep up with her."

"So she is with Spike?"

"She will be. Soon."

"She shouldn't be."

Cordelia threw the rag back into the water and stood up. She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. "Dammit," Angel muttered, getting up and going after her. "Cordy!"

Cordelia stopped in the middle of the hall, turning around. "I really don't want to talk to you right now."

"Look, whatever I did to piss you off, I'm sorry."

"Whatever you did? You don't even know?"

"Something to do with Buffy?" Angel tried.

"Good guess," Cordelia snapped. She stalked over to him, anger flashing in her eyes. "What is it about her, Angel? I know you don't really want to be with her. I know you love me. But you can't let her go."

"She shouldn't be with Spike! He's no good for her."

"That isn't your decision, Angel. As a matter of fact, none of Buffy's decisions are yours. She's a grown-up now. And she's getting along just fine without you."

Angel flinched. "I care about her, Cordy. I care about what happens to her."

"No. What you care about is that Spike has something you don't. You think I don't know what went on this past year? You think just because I wasn't there in body that I couldn't see? Instead of welcoming Spike as another soldier for your cause, you belittled him, fighting him at almost every turn. And what the hell was that crap in Rome? Huh? You're so damn jealous of Spike that it's seriously clouding your judgment."

"Jealous of Spike? Come on, Cordelia, he's pathetic."

"Angel! Geez! I'm not falling for it. I know you're jealous. You're jealous of what he has. You're jealous of how easy he makes it look. You spent years trying to do the whole vampire with a soul thing, and Spike swoops in and achieves in two years what you couldn't in a century. And to rub salt in the wound, Buffy loves him. Probably more than she loved you. And yeah, you're jealous. It's ludicrous to even pretend you're not. But get the hell over it! This is how things were meant to be. Shut up and deal with it."

"Cordelia…"

"No, listen to me." Cordelia jabbed her finger against his chest. "I gave up a hell of a lot for you, Angel. First, I gave up a chance at stardom so _you_ wouldn't be all crazy with the visions. And now, I've given up a nice, cushy existence in the Higher Realms so you won't go over the edge. I have everything riding on you, you know that? I had to convince the Powers that Be that you weren't a hopeless cause, and right now, you're making me look like a fool."

"Cordy…" Angel tried again, but Cordelia wouldn't let him talk.

"I can't do this right now, Angel. I made love to you last night, gave everything I had to you. I let you drink from me. And how do I wake up? Alone. Where were you? Fighting over Buffy. This is the thanks I get for everything I've done for you? I have suffered for you, Angel. I've lived with near-constant pain to be your link to the Powers. I've faced death time and time again to be at your side. And you don't even care."

"No! That isn't true! I love you, Cordelia. I really do. I never meant…"

Cordelia held up her hand. "I'm sure you didn't mean a lot of things. I just…I need to go right now."

"Cordy, please. I'm sorry about this morning. I just heard someone downstairs, and I went to check it out. I didn't know it was them. And when I saw them together, I snapped. I'm sorry."

"I have to go," Cordelia said again, turning around and walking down the stairs. Angel ran after her, only to have Cordelia turn, her eyes flashing white as she pushed out at him, an invisible force hitting him and slamming him backwards.

Angel fell to the ground, staring as she ran out of the hotel.

* * *

Again, please, please review.

Also, for those of you who've read "Daylight," too, there's only one more scene that will be from that fic before it's on to all new stuff.


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